


Rites of Renewal

by Measured_Words



Category: Adventure World (Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Cannibalism, F/M, Future Fic, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Hobgoblin Culture, Hobgoblins - Freeform, Leadership, M/M, Memorials, Vaginal Sex, Wakes & Funerals, Ye Olde Adventure World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26537485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: Kraaz has died after losing a challenge to a young warrior rising through the ranks.  The Hrieffen come together to celebrate his legacy and choose and new Hraal, and Korivan must provide guidance for the world that follows along behind him.
Relationships: Hrieffen Eryvet Korivan/Hrieffen Orak Kraaz, Hrieffen Eryvet Korivan/Māmītu "May" Lalû
Comments: 7
Kudos: 4





	Rites of Renewal

The full ceremonies for a Hraal's death hadn't been performed in 27 years, and Korivan had never seen them. He hadn't been fully initiated into the Booyagh yet when Hraal Kalyagh had died, either. At 6, he'd only begun the most rudimentary of his training. Mirku's body had never been recovered, and she'd been called to the ancestors in other ways. Korivan hadn't seen that either – he'd been lying in a dark hut fighting for his life as his dragonmark manifested. His heart was aching again this time, but in a different way. 

Kraaz's legend had spread far in his life, and many Gaburrim from the growing alliance had come to the funeral feast – and to hear who the Hrieffen would decide should take his place. Korivan already knew it would be Hrieffen Yetka Hrugaal, who'd challenged Kraaz and won. The likelihood was on everyone's lips, but he had the certainty of the Ancestors. They also gave him all the guidance he needed to see the tribe's traditions honoured and ensure Kraaz took his place among them on the battlefields of Avelas and in the hearts of Hrieffen present and future.

Part of the ceremonies were public – recitation of his lineage, warriors telling stories of his deeds. His body had been preserved with magic at the time of his death, in readiness for this. Korivan had been there, Kraaz gripping his arm weakly, grinning through the pain as his blood poured from a wound on his thigh too quickly to staunch. "Watch that one," he'd gasped. "Young punk – she'll go far." Now Hrugaal was sitting with her growing faction, but even she sat wide eyed at the stories of the victories from when she'd been young. She'd have heard them before, the way told Kraaz told them – but it wasn't just Gaburrim who'd come. Laris was here, of course, and May. It was Lócë Camellia who told the tale of his place in the fight versus Kepeskmiiriv.

Korivan had brought the old knife, its blade sharpened so many times over the years that it was barely a finger's breadth of steel, but the Ancestors granted him strength, and he did not falter as he cut the Hraal's heart free. One part for himself, one to the Orakyagh, one part preserved and dried, held safe with other important Hrieffen of the past. This was Kraaz, he thought through the haze of ritual drugs. 

"So we all lend strength to the tribe in death," he spoke to the crowd. "And the strength of our arms to Bane, as warriors in Avelas. So is the strength of the Hrieffen….renewed." His eyes fell on Hrieffen Yetka Hrugaal. She lifted her glass and grinned as the others cheered, but the Ancestors told him what lay in her heart.

The tribe's heart now turned to revelry, and their attentions turned from Korivan, left standing over the remains, dead blood on his blade and lips. There was more work to do, but his mind was buzzing with the whispers of the dead. He found it hard to focus, until a living voice cut through the haze – it was Halgalaz.

"Gaath. Korivan." She lay a hand on his shoulder. "We can prepare the body." She was standing with Hrieffen Orak Murrek, Orakyaagh, who nodded solemnly. After a moment, Korivan nodded, cleaning his blade and turning away, back to his tent. His work would come again soon enough.

"She should be Gaath," he muttered as he pushed the flap aside.

"Soon enough, but you've got more to do before you join me again on the fields."

Korivan grunted, and looked around reflexively, but he knew this ghost, like the others, spoke only in his mind.  
"So you are an Ancestor now," he said – aloud, though it wasn't necessary.

"From one battlefield to the next. This isn't what I thought it would be like – there's so many, Kor."

He couldn't see Kraaz, only hear his voice, but he could imagine him sprawled on the furs beside him. He remembered when he'd first seen Avelas – a tiny corner of it where the leaders of the Hrieffen had assembled. Beyond, he'd heard the hordes of Gabburim engaged against the demonic hosts of the Primordials. It had been overwhelming and he was sure it was even more so for Kraaz to stand among that host. "They have been waiting for you."

"I keep hearing that. I've had some good reunions – but now it's my time to wait."

"For me?" Korivan felt old most days, and today it was worse. His hand ached, and his neck was stiff just from wearing the headdress.

Kraaz laughed, seeing into his thoughts. "You don't see your own strength. Sure - there's younger Booyagh, but they're too afraid to challenge you. They know you could destroy them still without lifting a finger. A Hraal needs the strength of his body, but you have more than that."

"I am not the only one… with power."

"True enough. We never were. But you have experience that a new Hraal will need. Give her some time. The Hrieffen were lucky with us. Lots of tribes wouldn't have survived and grown stronger like we did. And you always had guidance. She doesn't know how valuable that is, but she will."

Korivan huffed. It was good for warriors to posture and test themselves, but he didn't know if he had the patience to deal with it directly.

Kraaz chuckled, but his presence was already fading. "She'll bring you around…" and then his voice faded into the rhythm of the others. Still, it was nice to know he was there, still watching his back.

"Gaath?"

He opened his eyes to find her, Hrugaal, standing in the opening to his tent. Her posture was defiant as she stood on the threshold, but there was little more to it than that. He grunted and gestured at the pile of furs across from him, and she swaggered over and dropped down into the space.

"I brought you some wine. I figured we should talk, since I'm going to be Hraal."

He frowned. Not that she was wrong. "No one has come to declare such a thing…. To me."

She grinned, holding out a drinking horn. "But they will, and you know it. Who else could they pick? Besides – I can tell it's true from how cranky you are."

Korivan scowled more deeply, but he accepted the horn. She was perceptive as well as strong and fast. "A younger Hraal will bring strength to the tribe."

Hrugaal nodded, and took a drink from her own horn. "I will." She cocked her head and bared her teeth. "I could show you just the kind of strength I have."

This was familiar – he still had plenty of warriors who came to him looking for a lover, and especially women looking to bring new strength to the tribe, and hopefully more dragonmarks. This visit was something different, but the mechanics were the same. "You want to fuck?"

She grinned, downing the rest of her wine before coming over to his side of the fire. "I've heard it’s a thing that Hraals and Gaaths do."

Probably all the Hriefffen had heard it at one time or another. Kraaz had never been quiet. "You're not Hraal yet."

She was already stripping her breeches, and he'd loosened the belt of his kilt. "But I will be," she said.

Generally, Korivan preferred to take a more active role in his sexual encounters, but now many of his partners were younger and stronger, and had their own opinions about who should direct. Hrugaal climbed into his lap, stroking him to hardness as they kissed. She pushed him back onto the furs, grinning as he grunted, holding his cock so she could position herself as she desired. He took hold of her hips, unwilling to abdicate all control, and drew her down to join with him fully. She was wet and hot, but she settled for the moment, content to hold him inside her for the moment and lean back against his knees. Instead, she traced over the dragonmark on his chest, some of his more prominent scars, and spread her fingers to match the black handprint on his shoulder.

"Blessed by Bane," she said as she began to rock her hips. Korivan had moved from stroking her thighs to thumbing her clit, and she grinned in appreciation. "You and Kraaz brought glory to the tribe in years past. I want to do the same."

"You'll never be Kraaz." He could see the words hit heavy, and her face darkening. She stopped moving against him. "This will never be… what we had." Hrathya, the deep bond between leaders that he and Kraaz had shared was rare, the stuff of legend, and he knew he would not find it again.

"Maybe the tribe needs a new Gaath too, then," Hrugaal growled, looming over him – but he wasn't concerned – he knew enough of the future. Kraaz would be waiting a while yet for Korivan to join him.

"That is…the voice of fear. Not strength." He squeezed her thighs. "Is that the legend you want to build… for yourself?"

Hrugaal scowled more deeply, sitting back on her knees. "I'm no coward."

"No," he agreed. "And you must look to the future…. Not the past…for strength. The Hrieffen have much work to do."

"I will build my own legend." Confident again, she refocused herself on the sex, bringing affirmation with her climax, and his shortly after. She rolled off when they were done, and finished her wine before collecting her pants and rejoining the rest of the celebration. She would need some time to shape herself into a leader, but she was strong, and she would give that to her people.

Korivan continued to lay on his furs, stretched out naked and comfortable enough. In a few more hours, Murrek would come to tell him that they had chosen the new Hraal, and there would be more ceremonies to conduct. For now, the Ancestors were quiet, leaving him to make his own peace with the past and the changes morning would bring. He, too, had work to do and legend to build, but he felt stronger knowing Kraaz was still with him, and that the tribe would be in good hands when it was his time to march eternal across the battlefields of Avelas.


End file.
